Listening
by thebookunfinished
Summary: But for now: He will wait. He will listen.


_Sleep now/ and dream of the ones that came before/ they are calling/ from across a distant shore._

* * *

He waits. He listens.

In a strange limbo between life and death, a world between what he has _known_ and what he _knows_ will come to be. He can feel his soul being split into two separate pieces, what is sorely his, truly him and his heart, and the part of him that _must_ be reborn and _must_ persist- the part of him he now realizes was merely borrowed, he was purely a vessel, a host, to bare such a spiritual essence inside of him. But not a leech, no, not something that simply used him, a thinking figure who control his destiny. No, it was more of light, a gift, a glowing modest orb from spirits to the earth, gifted to him to bear for the good of humanity. There was the part of him that will be remembered in the hearts of his family, and the part of him that will live to be loved by others as dearly and completely as he was loved.

He feared that this divorce of his two beings would be wrought with pain, that he would be ripped apart in this unavoidable death and rebirth. But, to his surprise and mighty relief, the parting seemed to be that of two lovers, a gentle embrace, and soft kiss farewell as the two parted with not a word, but a single longing glance and a hand raised in a bittersweet goodbye.

With one final tug, a feelings like a skipped heart beat, but perhaps more akin to the feeling he had the first moment he felt Kya kick his hand from inside her mother's womb, the beings were now two, separate spirits. He finds himself staring at the spirit's gift, the bright glowing orb.

It startles him of how much it feels like a child. It knows not of evil, greed or corruption, for it was nothing more that innocence and pure undying light. It thumped like a heartbeat, a wet nurturing sound that he found fitting. It was a like a child, never leaving the wet, warm womb of its host, not knowing if it is being used for good or for evil, but merely allowing pure power to pump through the vessel's veins, allowing it to contact all of the other hosts it's ever been, allowing access to knowledge and wisdom.

And it _loved_ him.

It seemed to gaze upon him with the adoring eyes of a child at its' mother, pure and true _love _and _devotion_ that was as innocent as it was sacred. Inside of him it felt safe, loved, cared for, never having to leave the warm body of a human host. Now it seemed to kiss his cheeks and hold his hands and wish him well on this new league of his journey where it cannot follow. Strangely he felt like he wanted to cry, for this sweet pure light will never see the heavens, live in the rolling fields and meadows, and live in a word never racked with pain, never having to say goodbye. It will linger until the breaking of the world, from host to host until there was no longer a need for it.

With one last parting caress it disappeared into the mortal world, choosing its next vessel.

He spends a moment remembering his life, smiling softly at the feeling. A good life, a long life. The only regrets he feels are the right ones, all the others had been dealt with during his time. He had been faced with great peril, but kept himself, kept his morals and his beliefs. He had lived a long, happy life, had a loving family and friends.

His only yearning is to look into big blue eyes one last time, but someday, he will be able to gaze into them for the rest of eternity. With that thought, he is ready. Aang turned away from the door between what he has known and what he knows will come to be. In front of him, a figure appears.

Soft fur, large deep wise brown eyes appear before him, and he finds that he cannot hold back tears any longer. In front of him, his bison, his Appa, appears, groaning with joy of their reunion. He has long waited for his boy with the large gray eyes.

He jumps and hugs the large head, remembering the bright apple he had held out to the bison, the promise he made many moons ago _"I guess this means we'll always be together."_

It seems fitting that his spirit guide has come to bring him home.

Climbing on his back, the bison lifts off with a groan, and before his very eyes, Aang sees nirvana appear.

A temple, filled with the souls of his people he has long heard whispering on the winds. Spirits that never parted the world, but simply waited and whispered. He sees the young children playing games, chasing lemurs and petting sweet young bison. He sees the monks carefree and laughing, a pair of lovers exchanging glances in the fall afternoon. He sees the elders playing their own games, taking walks and listening to the winds.

He sees his friends, his old masters and monk Gyatso waits at the stairway for him, looking a kind and wise as he did the last memory Aang had of him- faded and crinkled like an ancient piece of paper, but filled with longing and clear gentle feelings.

He knows that someday, a young soul will call upon him, and he will become a guide, giving wisdom and encouragement as Roku had once done to him.

But for now:

He will wait. He will listen.

* * *

A short little story about Aang, because I miss him dearly. I know this isn't a chapter of _Unlikely_ like a promised, but I am having major writers block for it, but I promise I will come back to the story shortly.

Thanks for reading.


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